


218 - Burlesque Dancer Reader

by storiesaboutvan



Category: Catfish and the Bottlemen (Band)
Genre: Cute meet, F/M, Fluff, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-08 18:03:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17391080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesaboutvan/pseuds/storiesaboutvan
Summary: Filling the prompt “reader being a burlesque dancer and van meets her on a boys night out (saturdays are for the boys lol) and yeah he like falls in looove cause hes a big dope and the reader is like a mix of violet chachki and dita von tease and super sensual and fun and a bit of a flirt and totally magnetic but not like a manic pixie dream girl ya know”





	218 - Burlesque Dancer Reader

"Are you alright, love?"

You looked over; a guy was waiting for his turn with the sugar and takeaway lids. You'd been carefully running your thumb around the edge of your lid to ensure it was securely attached to the cup. One time you didn't put it on properly and as you went to sip your coffee, it poured down the front of your shirt. Another time though, you pressed too hard as you attached the lid and the cup folded, sending hot liquid all over the counter and your hands. It was a balancing act that terrified you. You knew that that café didn't put the lids on for the customers, so you had really cursed yourself. 

Had the guy heard the small sound of anxiety that had come from you or was he simply impatient?

"Sorry," you said with a grin, then stepped aside, leaving your cup there. He looked it confused, then back at you.

"You done?"

"Um… You just go."

He cautiously stepped up and added two sugars to his black coffee, then put a lid on with ease. It didn't even look like he had to eyeball the different sizes preemptively to save himself from the embarrassment of picking the wrong one. Maybe it was just you that did that. When he stepped aside, you moved back to your cup. He didn't leave though; instead, he was watching you with his head on a puppy dog tilt.

"Want me to check it?" he asked. You looked over at him and grinned again. Your mother always said you only had the one smile. A huge, goofy, ear to ear one with teeth was all your face seemed to know how to make. The guy smiled back though. You nodded.

You watched his thumb run around the lid, then he nodded to you.

"You absolutely sure?" you asked.

"Yeah,"

"If ya not, and it spills-"

"It won't,"

"Okay. Thank you," you said. He nodded again and turned to leave. You did the same but got only three steps before quickly turning around again. He was cute! Super cute! And that was definitely an attempt to flirt, or an excuse to talk to you, or something. Prone to missing opportunities, you spun on your heels as fast as you could, before the guy could leave. Apparently, he had had the same idea.

Your bodies crashed together, and while his coffee was in his hand off to the side, safe and contained, yours had been held in front of you. The consequence was that coffee drenched your shirt and his. You looked down at yourself, then slowly across at him. You were the shocked emoji personified.

"I am so sorry. Oh my god," you said.

Then, the embarrassment set in. One of the waiters came over with paper towels and a 'caution: wet' sign. As the guy thanked him, you took a step backwards. He looked up, smiling.

"I'm sorry," you repeated.

"All good, love. Just a bit of coffee. Probably smells better than my smokes anyway,"

"Yeah… um…"

The door to your left opened as people left the café. Awkwardly, quickly, socially very weirdly, you ran. The coffee shop was three blocks behind you when you stopped, thighs aching and lungs overworked. You rubbed your face and groaned.

...

When you got to work, huffing and puffing, Yuki followed you through the club. 

"What happened?" she asked. "What's that all over you?"

"I heaps don't want to talk about it," you replied.

"Okay, but what happened?"

You shot her a look over your shoulder. In the dressing room, you peeled your wet shirt off and pouted at your reflection. The skin over your chest was red.

"Yuki!" you squealed and turned to her.

"Why do ya boobs look sunburnt?" Another dramatic pout and she started to laugh. "Coffee? Again? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"So much. So. So. Much," you whispered.

"Does it hurt?"

"Physically no. Emotionally yes. Do we have coffee here?"

"Uh… only the instant stuff. Sorry."

It just was not your day... night. 

The red was concealed with makeup and glitter, and distracted from by your barely there outfit. Your shift started as you argued with Yuki about the healthiness of drinking coffee in the evening anyway.

On the floor, you surveyed the customers and atmosphere of the club. Despite it being early, there was a mood you liked. People were itching to get crazy. Lucky for them, crazy was the club's speciality. A little bit burlesque. A little bit smutty. A little bit dive bar. A little bit punk. There was no one single identity of the club; it was simply a place for madness and mayhem, for glitter and naked bodies and all types of people. 

It was always easy to spot the people that were first timers; the girls with the huge feather fans, the multiple mirror balls shining squares of light across the room in uneven patterns, the smoke machines and bathroom drugs, all overwhelmed them. They'd sit down for most of the night, terrified and waiting for things to come to them rather than vice versa. It wasn't your job to make them feel welcome and spend money though.

Your job was to dance. There wasn't a stage, instead smaller podiums set up all across the club. Multiple dancers at the same time, sometimes you'd coordinate and play off each other over the customers. Sometimes you'd do your own thing, toying with the people that would sit below you. For some girls, it was all dance. For others, it was all strip. Importantly, whatever you wanted to do in your performance was completely up to you. With total autonomy, you loved your job. The club was a safe space for weirdos, and therefore you fitted in completely.

As you flirted with a red-haired girl and reminded a middle aged guy for the third time you didn't take cash tips while on stage and he needed to give them to the bar staff, you spotted a group of guys being led through the club by one of the managers. They climbed the stairs and were given one of the V.I.P. booths. Glancing over at Yuki from where she was pouring drinks, you watched her notice them and look at you. She smirked. Rich people meant big tips. Your luck was changing.

The night rolled on and things started to devolve into messy fun. Most of the girls dancing were those opting for near nudity. One of them had been trying out Passion Dust capsules, and you were highly concerned about both the medical risk factor involved and how exactly it would be used in her performance. The bartenders were serving free absinthe. Sugar cubes on fire acted as tea light candles on the top of the bar, pretty, blue and flickering. One of the managers on the floor was dressed in a Pikachu onesie, and two of the waiters were in hot shorts and roller skates. The mirrorballs were rocking, the floor of the room was barely visible through the dry ice smoke illusion, and a couple of drunk customers were walking around painting stripes of glitter on people's faces. Almost every zebra printed chair in the place was taken, and as you watched a man in a green shiny suit wearing sunglasses walk into the unisex bathrooms, you knew something was gonna happen. There was too much potential in the air and too much weirdness to be contained.

You glanced up to the V.I.P. area. Yuki was serving them handcrafted cocktails while they watched Bambi. She appeared next to them in a bunny rabbit onesie (where the fuck was everyone getting them from?) then folded herself out of it to the waist. It was a little unnerving, almost like watching her be skinned. She was topless and only heart shaped pasties covered her. You couldn't see their faces in detail, but you knew they'd be dying. She was beautiful and bossy and so cute it ached to be around her. Her party trick held their attention and they watched her inhale deeply through a hookah pipe, then blow out heart shaped rings. You wanted to enjoy the show, but you had your own to put on. You'd already turned away when one of the guys stood and stumbled his way down the stairs and across the floor.

As your dance reset, the guy fell into one of the seats in front of you.

With all the other things happening in the club, you didn't need to try so hard. Just an easy, flirty slow dance. You'd take off your lace bralette, and like Bambi, you had heart shaped pasties. The matching underwear would stay on. As you sunk to your knees, painfully slowly for the people watching, you made eye contact with the new customer. The V.I.P. that you hadn't noticed come down from upstairs. His eyes were glazed over and unfocused. He was a sickly pale, but deep shades of scarlet red were splashed across the bottom of his cheeks. Brown hair a mess and swaying on his chair, he looked up at you and you instantly recognised each other.

If he hadn't, your stupidly beautiful grin would have reminded him.

First, you were the cute clumsy girl in the coffee shop he'd wanted to get the number of. Then, you were the dancer across the room he couldn't stop watching, despite a million and one more attention-grabbing things being in the way. There was a nearly naked girl smoking at his feet and he thought he was hallucinating the shape of her smoke rings, but he didn't much care about Bambi. He risked his life to get closer to you, climbing stairs and navigating a room while being severely fucked up. And then, you were back to being the cute girl. Less clumsy. Less clothed. Just as beautiful. Just as wanted.

"Oh, hiiiiii," you said to him, then bit your lip.

Out of nowhere, he passed out, like his switched had just been turned off.

…

In one of the staff lounges out the back, you knelt next to the couch and dabbed at the guy's pretty face with a clean, wet cloth. You were left alone with him once security had carried him though. Cam, one of the managers, had gone to get one of his friends and to get Yuki. She was the first aid officer on duty.

"Should call a fuckin' ambulance," you muttered to yourself as you waited.

Yuki came into the room, followed by Cam, then one of the other guys. Maybe he had had a few drinks, but he may as well have been sober in comparison to the guy on the couch. Yuki slapped the guy's face gently, then checked for a pulse.

"Did he take anything?" she asked the friend.

"Nah. Just the drinks,"

"What did he have?" Cam asked Yuki.

"Eh. Enough to get him fucked up, but not pass-out-fucked up,"

"Van can hold his booze too. He ain't a lightweight," the friend said.

"Is he gonna be okay?" you asked, your voice coming out heavy with concern. The friend looked at you a little confused. To him, you were a complete stranger, sitting on your folded legs in high-waisted lace underwear and nothing else.

"Yeah… Maybe just needs to sleep it off. We can call an-" Yuki went to say.

"Nah. He'll kill us if we make a fuss,"

"A cab then? Take him home?" Cam tried. The friend shrugged, very unconcerned about the state of his friend.

"Honestly… it's pretty normal for one of us to tap out early. Can he just nap in 'ere for a bit?"

You and Yuki looked to Cam. If he died while nobody was around, the club would be liable. Not to mention the ethics of leaving him.

"It's time for my break anyway. I'll keep an eye on him," you offered, reaching out to wipe his face again.

"Not to be rude, love, but… you seem very worried 'bout him," the friend said. You grinned.

"I met him today," you said.

"This is not the fucking coffee boy is it?" Yuki yelled. The friend erupted in the same laughter as her.

"Van said you were like, all clumsy and cute and shit. Not a stripper!" he said.

"I'm not a stripper, but even if I were it wouldn't be a bad thing?" you replied quickly.

"No, I didn't mean… It's just… you were not what I was expectin'. Did he see you before he passed out?"

"Yeah, for a second,"

"So you made him pass out?" Yuki asked.

"Sounds like Van. He's a fuckin' big dope. Trust him to find his coffee girl then pass out at her fuckin' feet. He'll be fine," the friend said, then moved to walk from the room. Yuki grinned at you as she followed him out.

"You watch him, Y/N. Seriously," Cam warned. You nodded. "Stay with him until he wakes up. Take a longer break. If he's not up in the hour, come get me,"

"Yep. Okay."

She closed the door behind her.

The staff lockers were in the corner of the room, and you pulled on a hoodie, not bothering to zip it all the way up. If it rubbed too close to your chest, you'd never get the glitter off it.

You sat on the floor in front of… what did his friend call him? Van? … Van and ate a banana, watching his chest rise and fall in reassuring movements. Too much energy in your body, you paced the room as you waited for him to wake up or die or something. A decision was made then to try to proactively get him back to consciousness. You poked his tummy gently, then shook his shoulder. Nothing. You got on your knees and leant onto the couch. Your face was close enough to his face that you could see each freckle and pore.

"Van?" you whispered in his ear. "I need you to wake up."

Nothing.

"Um… My name is Y/N. We met today. I don't know if you remember me or not. I'm sorry I ran away. I was just super duper embarrassed. It was a super weird thing to do," you said, resting your forehead on the couch and looking down at your thighs. "But I mean, I guess it's kind of your fault because I was turning around to chase you… Not, like, chase chase, but see if maybe I could get your number or something because you're heaps cute. But I've ruined that with the whole burning you with hot coffee and now making you pass out thing. No chance anymore,"

"Wouldn't say that," Van's croaky voice said in a small, small whisper. Your head flew up and you were grinning. His eyes weren't open. They probably had been, but for a split second. The room was bright.

"Van?!"

"Yeah… hi…"

Slowly, his eyes opened, squinting and bloodshot. He tried to sit up, and you stood to help. When he was sitting and stable, you gave him a bottle of water. He drank greedily and you watched weirdly enthralled.

"Thank you," he said.

"You're welcome. Um… Are you okay?"

He looked up at you properly then. He smiled, blushed, then looked back down.

"You're so naked," he said.

"No I'm not!" you squeaked, standing up. "See!" He looked back up. "Underwear up to my belly button!" You lifted the hoodie to prove it. "And the nipple is the part that counts as naked, for some weirdo reason. So I'm not even topless. And there's the hoodie too,"

"Right, but you feel naked,"

"How do you know how I feel?" you asked with a smirk that was really just the same wide grin as the rest. He smiled back. "So what happened?" you asked, sitting back down.

"How long was I out for?"

You checked the clock. "About twenty minutes,"

"Huh. I feel… better slept than that. Uh… I don't know what happened. I… freaked out. Had a lot to drink. It was really, really hot. All this strange stuff happening. Just… I don't know. I thought I was tripping or something, but…"

"You probably weren't. This place is like… a really seedy version of Wonderland,"

"Yeah… Then I saw you… but I didn't know it was you, and…" He was struggling to piece together his experience. It made sense to you though. Deer in the headlights type of sensory overload. "…you…"

"Me what?" you asked, sitting down next to him. Your shoulders and sides were touching and he looked at you from his hunched forward position. Van shrugged, glanced around the room, then looked back.

"I spent the afternoon thinkin' 'bout who you were and what you were like and stuff. This is not what I expected,"

"That's what your friend said… What do you do then?"

"Uh, I'm in a band. Singer in a band."

You laughed nodding. "Yeah. Yours suits you,"

"Yours does too… just… a surprise. A good surprise though. Like a PlayStation at Christmas," he said with a genuine smile. You laughed again.

"Don't think a guy's ever compared me to a PlayStation before,"

"Really? Thought you would 'ave heard 'em all by now,"

"Yeah… You get points for originality… and for passing out upon seeing me semi-naked. That was good for my ego. Kinda like how it happens in a movie," you replied.

You instructed Van to finish the water and made him eat a banana too. While he did, you took off the hoodie and replaced it with the bralette. Checking your makeup and hair in the middle, you fixed your eyeliner and applied lip balm. Van tried to not watch, but you were too magnetic and he was falling hard for you. When you were ready you looked back over at him.

"You wanna stay in here for a bit, and I'll send in one of your friends to get you if they go, or do you want to come out?" you asked him, moving to stand in front of the couch. He stood up, and you took his hands to help him. He was steady on his feet and you couldn't fully comprehend how less than an hour ago he was the walking fucking dead.

"I… don't know…"

You laughed. "Okay… maybe stay here then? To be safe." You pushed him back down and he easily fell. "Here," you said, getting your hoodie out of your locker and folding it up, you put your hand against his chest and he let himself be put back in his original position. Giving him the hoodie as a pillow, you leant down and kissed his forehead.

"You have no idea how close your… you… you were to my face just then," he said. You held your arm across your chest.

"Sorry,"

"Oh, fuck, no, don't… Not a bad thing… I… you're beautiful. Thought so before when you were spilling coffee all over me. Think so now," he mumbled, closing his eyes. You were right to keep him there.

"Okay. Thank you. I'll come check on you soon, okay?"

"Yeah. Thank you," he said and you opened the door. "Wait! Wait up!" he called suddenly, sitting up quickly. He held his head; he'd rattled his dehydrated brain against his skull. You looked over at him from where you were leaning against the door frame. "I don't know ya name. What's your name?"

"Y/N," you whispered with a grin.

"Y/N," he repeated. "Very glad to have found you, Y/N,"

"I'm very glad you found me too, Van. Sleep now. I'll come back soon."

Van nodded, and you waited until he'd settled back down before you closed the door.

Out on the floor, you stood at the bar and waited for Yuki to come over.

"He alright?"

"Yep," you answered.

"What are the odds, huh? So much happening tonight!"

"What else happened?" you asked, looking around. More people had packed into the club while you were gone. You glanced up at Van's friends. Bambi was gone, but they had invited half the club up there with them. They were doing rounds of body shots.

"Faith proposed to Bambi," Yuki said. You looked back over at her quickly.

"What?! What'd she say?"

"You kidding? Yes, obviously. They're literal the cutest couple I've ever seen. Except, I guess, maybe now you and that dead one in the lounge," Yuki said. You grinned and made a pleased childlike sound. "Anyway. Cam said to tell you that if you wanted to finish up in an hour you can. Everyone is too fucked to be focussing on dancing."

Taking the opportunity, you danced your hour away, watching the clientele get more sordid and more charmingly sleazy by the minute. When you crossed the floor, ready to disappear for the night, Van's friend appeared at your side.

"Hey. The manager said he's fine?"

"Yep. Just needed some water," you reported.

"Cool. We're gonna head off in a minute,"

"Okay. I was just heading back there. I'll bring him out," you said and waved him off.

Van was sitting up on the lounge when you entered. As you walked across the room in your lace underwear and glittery skin, he blushed, licked his lips, and looked away. You wanted to record how he reacted every single time he was in the same room as you.

"You look better. Got colour to your skin and everything!" you said as you pulled track pants from your bag in your locker and put them on.

"You had pants the whole time?!"

You laughed at how his voice went high-pitched. "I'm a show-off… Not gonna say sorry for that. How ya feeling?"

As he reported, you collected your hoodie from him and put it on, then pulled on old sneakers. Bag over your shoulders, you were ready for home. When Van stopped talking he looked at you in awe.

"Glad you're feeling better but why ya looking at me like that?"

"You just… you look like you're going for a run or something, but you're still dead fucking cute…" he said. He wasn't trying to compliment you. Van was just straight up feeling your comfy outfit vibes. You looked down at yourself, then back up at him grinning.

"Thanks. Your friends are waiting. You ready?"

"Almost. One more thing I have to do before you run away or I pass out again," he said standing and reaching for something in his pocket. He pulled his phone out and unlocked it. You watched him open his contacts and make a new one for you. As you typed your name and number, you tried your best to maintain the cool he thought you had, then you remembered that wasn't true at all. You'd met in a collision of coffee, then you literally ran out the café. There wasn't any chance he thought you were cool. He did, however, think you were a glorious goddess of a girl that had to be worshipped. You'd made him feel that without trying. In the toothy grin and the swaying hips and the effortless warmth, he was made undone.

Van followed you out onto the floor. Yuki waved and pointed to the front doors. Out on the street, Van walked you to your car and thanked you for looking after him.

"Thanks for finding me," you replied. He nodded. For a moment you watched each other, both a little bit sick with nerves. You both wanted the same thing, but Van was still not trusting his senses. He couldn't fully trust a girl as bold and beautiful as you could like him. Up to you then, you leant in and kissed his lips quickly and gently. Just enough to make it clear that yes - yes, he would see you again and yes, you liked him a whole lot. "Goodnight, Van," you whispered. He bit his lip and took a step back.

"Goodnight, Y/N."


End file.
